


Tread

by kimtristh



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Self-Lubrication, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimtristh/pseuds/kimtristh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is a hypersexual teen omega living in a series of foster homes. Hannibal is his latest foster father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from The Big C where Hugh Dancy plays a gay guy with a love for bears (thanks asteripan for the information XD).
> 
> Dedicated to someone who quite enjoyed the mental image. You know who you are.

He can feel the uneven tiles of the floor through the fabric of his trousers, and he can feel the fingernails of the older man as they press against his scalp. 

The guy is pretty big. He likes it when they’re big - there’s less thinking. 

He can feel the pull in his jaw as he tries to accomodate him, the ghost of a gag reflex as he hits the back of his throat. He can smell the older man, all grease and musk, oil and dirt, cheap beer and stale sweat.

He moves his head back and forth, lips tight around the shaft, tongue tracing the underside, following the intricate pattern of his veins. His hand cups the older man's balls, pressing against them softly, rolling them on his palm and enjoying the velvety weight.

He decides to turn his attention to the head, now, so he pulls back, a long harsh suck as he withdraws until just the tip is in his mouth. He can feel the man's cock twitching, his strong frame trembling above him and he feels incredibly powerful. He isn't even using both of his hands.

“Jesus, kid!” the bearded man grunts, and he has to contain his smile as he sucks hard on the head of his cock. The swollen glans leaking precum that he licks eagerly.

“I’m good, huh?” he says with an arched eyebrow, stealing a flirty look upwards, but he gets no response, only a firm shove forward that tells him there should be less talking.

He opens his mouth wide then, wanting to take the older guy fully in again. He keeps his tongue flat and breathes deeply, because he can tell the guy is going to start to get rough. And he likes that, he loves that part the best really, when everything is so harsh and quick that he can’t even remember his own name. Will though. Will. Will. Willing - always willing.

The man pushes into his mouth then, all the way to the hilt, and Will's throat through experience accomodates him almost easily. He can feel the abundant hair of the older man as it brushes against his chin, against his nose and he closes his eyes, letting himself become just a fuck hole, because really, when he does this that's what it's all about.

The older guy starts up a rhythm then, pulling back almost entirely before pushing back in with a harsh thrust. He starts slowly, his fingers still holding on to Will's curls with a vice grip and still trying to keep quiet but failing. 

The rhythm starts getting faster then and yeah, that's what Will needs, he lets out a muffled groan of his own, that manages to make it past the tight lipped hold he has on the man's cock and he is quite happy to hear the man let out an almost embarrassing cry as the vibrations travel through his body. 

His lips have started to feel raw, the pull on his throat has stopped aching to become entirely numb. He loves that, he loves to be aware of every part of his body as it becomes nothing but a tool for the older men's pleasure. 

He's aware of his own cock, twitching in his pants, hard and helpless as it lies almost completely ignored and he presses the heel of his palm against it, making his hips twitch. He doesn't need to touch himself though, he's getting enough out of this as it is.

He can tell the guy is close, his grunts and moans becoming less muffled as he stops caring, his hips moving faster and almost violently as his cock hits the back of his throat over and over again. 

He gets ready, he wonders what the guy will do. He likes that as well, the fact that he doesn't know. For all the guys he has been with, it's always a surprise whether they'll stay in his mouth or they'll prefer to decorate his face and pull out.

He can feel a harsh pull on his hair and he lets himself be dragged away from the guy's cock, opening his mouth even wider, tongue out as he struggles between choosing to look at the spurts coming out of the man's cock or making sure he doesn't get cum in his eye. The former option wins and he can't help but moan harshly as the first spurt lands across his nose, decorating also his upper lip.

Four thick ropes in total make it to his face, some splashing across his cheek, some dripping straight into his mouth. He watches the older man's cock twitch, the man's fist tight near the tip as he squeezes the very last drops. 

He hears the man's heavy breathing and unabashed moans as he welcomes his cock into his mouth again, licking him clean, and he smiles up at him as he runs his fingers through the cum, scooping it up and swallowing it down.

The guy is trying to get his breathing under control, buttoning up and wiping his hands awkwardly on his jeans. His own sweat and Will's sweat now smeared on the fabric and Will also likes that. 

He has started to get back on his feet, dusting off his knees and he's about to say goodbye and give or receive a thank you when the guy goes and ruins it all. "So do you want money or something, kid?"

He hates it when they ask him if he wants money, if he wanted he’d tell them himself. "Fuck off!" he snarls, and he wants to swing his fist at the older man, aim for his nose, leave a mark that lives on longer than his smell on the guy's clothes ever would - but he knows better. The guy is all muscle, harsh features hidden by a thick beard, almost a foot taller than him and fully grown. Will would have no chance - but ah, how well can he picture the scene in his head if he was just a little bit older. He does that a lot, picturing how he would fight back if he had any chance.

He is stomping down the alley, ready to go back home and jerk off angrily, hoping to forget the interactions he had with the guy besides the actual sex - but it's to no avail. 

As he starts running he can still hear the older man's voice, taunting him because he's still a whore even if he's a free one, He tells himself he didn't hear anything.

When he gets home and he pushes his hand down his pants, he's still hard and he comes hard and fast, the smell of the older man still fresh in his mind. But as he falls asleep, all he can hear is the man's roaring laughter as it bounced on the walls.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual abuse by a parental figure, mild verbal abuse and mentions of physical abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize thoroughly over this, it just... mutated. Same warnings apply. Same dedication applies :) ♥ 
> 
> You know where to find me, I hope you still like this and thank you for reading everyone :) xx

It's always when Will has been sleeping. 

The thin mattress of his bed dips and he hates the familiarity with which his eyes fly open as he steels himself for what is to come.

"You wet, Willy?" his current foster father's breath, laced with alcohol, ghosts over his face as his fingers toy with the drawstring of his pyjamas. He doesn't say anything, there really is nothing he could say.

It's always been like this, really, of the long line of foster homes he has been assigned, he could probably name at most two where his darling father hadn't tried to f uck him. Because he is an omega - and omegas are only good for fucking.

The old man has managed to pull down his pyjamas now and has started to tug on his underwear, "Yeah, Willy, bet you're wet," he says, and he has to bite his tongue because mocking the bastard for his pathetic attempts at dirty talk would probably be the least smart thing to do right now. Most of his foster parents haven't beat him. This one does.

His mind goes to the place it always goes at time like this, he pictures himself fully grown, weedy little arms built and solid, legs strong and a fair few inches taller than good old Joe as he looks up at him impassively, a dozen possible scenarios running through his head.

"Papa's gonna take care of you real good, Willy," Joe says, his fingers circling around his entrance that is indeed wet. Will hates it, hates it when Joe calls himself a father, hates it that his body betrays him like this, because it's not the same when he's choosing to be on his knees or his back or bent over the nearest surface from some guy he just met. It's just not the same than being under the heavy weight of someone that's getting paid to pretend to care about him.

He pictures his hands then, large and strong, heel of his hand striking firmly against Joe's sternum making him gasp for breath, thumbs clawing against his throat, fingernails sinking in the soft flesh of the side of his neck making him stumble backwards as he chokes on his own blood. 

His bottom half is fully naked now, Joe's cock hard and menacing, bobbing as he keeps his trousers just down enough to reveal his erection. The older man is pulling on his arm now, and Will just does as he's requested, turning over and onto his stomach, because for all his foster father's dirty talk, he still can't handle the fact he's fucking a kid. A boy. Will hates that his own slick makes it easier for the bastard to forget. 

His foster father's erection swiftly spreads him open, his tight wet heat enveloping the older man's cock effortlessly, his muscles contracting around him as they welcome him like they have welcomed all the others. Hoping for a knot, hoping to be claimed - and he hasn't even had his first proper heat yet. 

The older man is grunting above him, his hips snapping back and forth and he's so noisy that Will can't believe his wife and the other kids can sleep through it. He knows they probably don't, but he's an omega and they're all betas, so nobody cares what happens to him. They got lucky and they get by, why bother worrying about someone who was born to be fucked? Still, he's so grateful that none of his foster parents have been alphas. The last thing he needs is for some bastard to claim him for life. Small mercies. 

He can feel Joe's fingers gripping tightly around his hips, his fingers will probably leave marks and he just takes it. His own cock lies between his legs, half-hard and he hates himself for it. Maybe it's his fault, all those men he has fucked in the past and his body getting a triggered memory from the sounds of slapping flesh, maybe he brings it upon himself, maybe it's just biology and he should stop complaining.

"Yeah, Willy, so wet for papa!" the older man says and he almost wants to cry. He pictures himself turning around, clawing out the older man's eyes, biting down on his cheek and tearing it apart. He pictures himself at least saying he's not wet for him, he pictures himself at least struggling - but all he does is whimper.

The older man's pace starts to stutter then, his hips snapping awkwardly back and forth and his breathing hitching further, the disgusting noises of his pleasure reverberating against the walls. Will is glad it'll be over soon. 

And it happens, the older man comes with a series of inhuman growls as he thrusts into Will over and over, muttering "Yeah, Willy, take papa's cum," which Will pretends not to hear. And then he pulls out, letting Will collapse on his stomach, his swollen hole oozing both his slick and the older man's cum while Joe admires his work. 

"You're a good little omega, Willy." the man says and Will can't help but shiver, because all it means is that he's only good for fucking, and he knows that, and he also knows that it's true. Then, all kindness is gone from the older man's voice as he stands up and buttons himself up, saying "Clean up, don't be disgusting."

Will reaches for the toilet paper he keeps by his bed, half-heartedly wiping at his wetness, tossing the balled up used tissue under the bed. He says nothing as he pulls up his underwear and pyjamas, doesn't even flinch as he rolls over on his back as he goes back to sleep.

He dreams of bashing the older man's head against the doorframe until his brains spill out. 

He also dreams of taking a knot.

**Author's Note:**

> The final work will be 11 chapters, this one is on the shorter end but I am unfortunately not very prolific and I tend to write short things :( hope it will be fun, either way!
> 
> If you want to contact me, you can hit me up on my [tumblr](http://teddy-grohl.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading :) xx


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